Going Inkless

Magic is what you make of it.  Superstitions only count if you believe in them.  The omens you notice and their interpretations are mostly a way of talking to yourself.  So I do not view Friday the thirteenth with trepidation.  Thirteen is not an unlucky number for me.  It's just a step beyond twelve.  I recognize that in the the language of symbols, that puts it beyond the totality of things, so in that sense, "supernatural," but that doesn't make it bad.  In a way, it's like going beyond the door, like breaking into a new adventure. This past Friday the thirteenth, I arrived at work as normal, started my computer and made myself a cup of tea.  The day before, we had celebrated National Library Week with Chinese food for lunch, and there was a bowl of leftover fortune cookies in the lounge.  I pocketed one to take back to my desk and enjoy with my Earl Grey.  Not long after I started into building a supply order, my cell phone started...

We've all heard it's not polite to discuss politics or religion.  If you're trying to avoid conflict, (and it's generally a good thing in polite conversation,) it makes sense.  People have very strong opinions on those subjects, and despite what you hear about the modern trend of political polarization in America, this is nothing new.  People have always been passionate about the subject, and some have started arguments, riots, or wars over political opinion all through history.  The same goes for matters of religion.  Why do you think we developed that rule for polite conversation? The problem is not that people have become more extreme about their positions but that we have become more aware of others' positions.  Without our social media tableaux of opinion, we might blithely go about assuming that our friends, neighbours, or even family must think the way we do.  Because the rules of social media etiquette are less solid than those of conventiona...

On August 7, 1913, Samuel F. Cody fell out of the sky.  Despite having done so before on several occasions and generally being thought of as indestructible, his luck had run out this time.  Investigations concluded that a bamboo strut in his biplane's wing snapped under pressure due to the sustained heat wave in England at the time.  Immediately, stories circulated about sabotage and murder.  People were convinced that some nefarious plot had played out that summer day.  A mere accident could not have been the end of Cody, adventurer, inventor, and showman. Now, unless you're interested in the history of aviation, you probably haven't even heard of Samuel F. Cody, much less the controversy at the time of his death.  I wouldn't have known, myself, were it not the subject of a book my father pressed me to read.  This exchange was fortified with stories about Cody's career in Wild West shows (and the inevitable conflict with Buffalo Bill,) the use o...

How do you feel about colouring within the lines?  What about thinking outside the box?  What about stopping at a red light?  Waiting your turn?  Seizing an opportunity? It's complicated.  Chances are, you're some kind of mix between following the rules and going your own way.  Don't worry.  I'm no psychologist, but I think that's probably healthier than either extreme.  Still, these distinctions and the conflicts that arise when individuals disagree on the approach to any given situation can cause all kinds of trouble. For any society to function, there must be rules, and they must be obeyed.  Since prehistoric times, people have grouped together for protection and to combine their skills and strength.  It's just easier to survive when you don't have to do everything on your own.  But actions like hogging all of the mammoth meat or bludgeoning Grog because you want to steal his wife have a way of eroding the foundation of trust...

Things may look different as you come to this blog, but I'm still here.  To be sure, there's been a lack of posts here over the past year.  Things have been rough and the political situation as we worked our way through the election process did not put me in mind to write anything uplifting.   I could have used the space to stew on the disappointing news that emerged day after day as we trudged toward our current political morass.  I could have spent more time warning people about the dangers of political manipulation like the piece I posted last March before I fell off the face of the earth (or at least the face of this blog).  I could have pushed myself to write something light.  Who knows?  That might have made me feel better.  But, as always, I wanted the posts on this blog to be meaningful, thoughtful, and positive.  Just couldn't sustain that. So, now- I've come back and given the blog a fresh new face (mostly because Blogger sugges...

Common belief holds that what you do at the new year sets the pattern for the year ahead.  This is why people throw parties to welcome the new year, why they try to spend New Year's Eve with the ones they love, and why some are determined to make that midnight kiss happen.  There are superstitions about wearing new clothes, starting off debt-free, and generally declaring your intent to be a better you starting January 1.  New Year's Day is a time of omens for the coming year.  Everyone hopes that good luck on the first day will presage good luck through the year. And we really needed that hope in 2017. It's pretty well accepted that 2016 sucked.  Whether you were saddened by the many deaths of beloved celebrities, shocked by various disasters and humanitarian crises, or disgusted by political developments, chances are you've had a rough time lately. I was a little overwhelmed by the politics, myself, which is part of the reason I fell off posting to this b...

It's political season here in the United States.  I'm sure you noticed.  It seems like it's been that way for an unnaturally long time already, and it's not even close to done yet.  That's a presidential election year for you.  We need time to get to know each and every character who's running for the highest office, and I guess that would be wise except that the process gets so clouded with money and lies until most people don't really have a clue who they can believe.  The battle for the presidency has been honed over the years, and the candidates have only gotten better at their feints and parries.  Almost nothing can be taken at face value. Like many, I'm sick of it.  It's the only system we've got, so I have a duty to be aware and involved, but by this stage in the game, all the shine has worn off.  I'm sure much of the world has been watching our primary debates with the same kind of disbelief and horror I have.  What a pool of candi...

I've gone vegetarian, and I'm taking my family with me. Not full time.  Not vegan.  Just meatless for one day a week, and it's probably not for the reasons you're thinking.  I'm not generally a big meat eater to start with.  I have my occasional carnivorous moments, but for the most part, I prefer to keep the meat on my plate as an accent rather than  a focus.  In the past, I  have chosen to avoid meat on days when I wanted to eat lighter or simpler.  Vegetarian dishes often fit that bill.  But it's not always easy.  There's planning involved, and you have to be more aware of ingredients in prepared foods.  Picking vegetarian options at a restaurant can be tricky, and your family's not always on board with a home-cooked vegetarian dinner.  They didn't sign up for that; so, there's a little guilt involved in serving meatless meals.  When I proposed to make one day a week meat free, I expected some resistance from my husba...

Well, we've finally done it.  After years of writing, editing, rewriting, soliciting agents, researching self-publishing, and formatting our book to suit the publisher, the novel my husband and I started together is available in paperback form.  Along the way, I've had to learn a lot of new things. I built a website, and I switched to an entirely new word processing program.  I've converted all sorts of files and studied advice on working with digital images to get the right results in the final print.  In the story, we've had to adjust some of our original ideas, and the book that's published now is a little different than the early manuscripts we distributed to friends and family for review.  But I think, all in all, it's a stronger piece. And it's fatter, too.  I honestly didn't realize how thick it would get when we converted it from standard letter sized pages to a 6 x 9 trade paperback book.  Still, it was a very satisfying feeling to hold the ...

     Americans are well versed in cop stories.  We've been telling tales of crime and justice for a very long time through books, radio, TV and movies.  I guess you could add video games to that list as well.  And it's not just Americans, either.  Stories about police solving crimes and chasing bad guys are popular everywhere.  Still, since I am going to discuss recent events here in Fox Lake, Illinois, I'll begin by saying we Americans are pretty familiar with cop stories.  We know how this is supposed to go.  There are heroes, and there are villains.  Every crime comes with a set of clues that ultimately reveal the truth, and the criminal is caught before too long- half an hour maybe, or at least before you turn the final page.  We know the rhythm of it, and we know the characters.  While there may well be a twist in the investigation, we know it won't be too complicated and we'll be satisfied with the justice in the end...

Up to now, Fox Lake's claim to fame was that it was a favourite vacation spot for some of Al Capone's gang who spent a lot of time drinking and gambling at the Mineola Hotel.  Otherwise, it's a generally quiet place with some pretty scenery.  Working class families live here.  Neighbors might have weekend barbecues, and you have to take it slow on the side streets because it's not unusual to encounter packs of kids playing ball or riding bikes.  There's been a different tone since Tuesday. I say "here" not in the just-passing-through way you may have heard reporters use on the news lately.  No, "here" is where I live.  Fox Lake has been my home for around 20 years now.  That abandoned cement plant they referenced in the early reports of this crisis is the very same I posted about here (though it's now devoid of its cheerful graffiti.)  I passed by it on my way to work only about 10 minutes before the crime that day.  While I did not know L...

Writing is, by its basic nature, a solitary activity.  There's only enough room for one at the keyboard or the notebook page.  To write, you're taking things out of your head and transferring them to paper.  Nobody is going to do that better than you because only you have the front row seat to that show.  You can try to get someone else to share your vision.  That's pretty much the point of writing.  But no matter how good you are at describing your ideas, the succeeding versions will always be just a little different.  It's just the way it is, and it's not a bad thing.  I've commented before on the nature of art being a collaboration between artist and audience.  Half the magic is in what your reader brings to the experience.  Still, to draw this back to my original point, nobody else is as close to the source of your story as you; so you write alone. At the same time, writing's basic nature is social.  Yes, authors are often ste...

You see a lot of bookmarks when you work in a library.  For one thing, they're a particularly useful tool for advertising upcoming classes and events.  Each one is like a mini flyer, easily tucked into books or displayed temptingly for the taking.  It's kind of a natural fit because, for all the wonderful things a library offers these days, people do still come looking for books.  And, despite the urge to finish some books in a single sitting, most of us just don't have that kind of time all in one block.  In today's busy world, bookmarks are a necessity. In addition to the ones programming librarians create to promote their offerings, library workers also get to see a lot of bookmarks accidentally left in the returns.  These can range from manufactured types, lovely things purchased or received as gifts, to homemade crafts, to some creative substitutes.  Anything handy becomes a bookmark when you've suddenly realized you were lost in another worl...

I encountered a toad the other day as I was preparing a garden bed for planting.  He nearly went unnoticed, being the same size and colour as a clump of the soil I was working.  But he hopped, and dirt doesn't do that. A toad is a very ordinary thing to find outdoors in spring time, but I reflected that I haven't seen many of them lately.  When I was young, there wasn't a day in the green or brown seasons when I didn't see a toad, a turtle, a crayfish, or some similar small creature up close and personal.  In recent years, these encounters have been less frequent, mostly just during camping trips.  Rarely, there will be some accidental visitor to "human" space.  A few years ago, during a torrential rainstorm, a toad had hopped into the library with the morning deliveries and had to be redirected.  Around ten years past, I rescued a crayfish from a hotel pool.  Still, the daily contact has been missing. Maybe part of my critter filled childh...

     We live in a world of ghosts.  I've seen them.  One minute, I'll be driving along, and suddenly, there's a younger me pushing the stroller and walking into town on some errand.  It happens in a flash, and then it's gone, faded back into the past.  These spots are all over the area.  Every place I've been has a bit of me attached, and these bits reappear in a flash when I pass a point with a strong impression.  Sure, they're only memories, but it always strikes me odd how vivid they can be, especially when they are the most ordinary moments.  We all expect to remember the big things- a catastrophe, love at first sight, a wedding or the birth of a child.  All these things leave their ghosts because we recognize their importance and press them into our minds for later, or else the emotion is strong enough to burn them in without thought.  But it's funny how some absolutely inconsequential pieces etch themselves on your memory...

Well, maybe not as dire as that. I suppose I should start by saying it's not all falling apart, at least not in anything more than the sense that everything  is always  falling apart.  Nature of the universe and all that.  Still, there have been things I've been trying to do lately that are running through some rough patches, and it's good to remind myself that falling apart is what things do.  If they didn't fall apart, we wouldn't have the challenge of putting them back together later. Now, this post may be a bit scattered, and it may run over the same ground I've covered before.  Ah, well.  It's kind of where I am at the moment, and the thoughts are worth sharing because I'm sure you've been there, too.  So, enough apologies.  Here goes:      I've always had a taste for big projects.  There are hundreds of little things that need doing around the house each day, but they hold no attraction like the major task that m...

     Many writers are quick to point out an error when they see one in the written form.  Even those who are too polite to say anything are likely to be seething inwardly as they read a mistake in grammar or spelling.  They can't help it.  In the course of embracing their craft, they have fallen in love with the language, and although that means they may take liberties with it themselves, trying risky or adventurous things, they also bristle at others' abuses.  In addition, good writers develop a knack for ferreting out problems with their own work, constantly honing their writing with each reading.  That habit doesn't stop just because they're looking at someone else's work.  Even when there is no real error, a writer may be thinking of some way it could have been said better.      This almost unconscious editing can be subjective.  Everyone has their own set of rules that are inviolable and others they may forgive bei...